


Fair Weather Heart

by azureheavens



Series: Being my friend is very sexy of you [9]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drama & Romance, During Canon, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hilda Gonna Learn, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love, Near Death Experiences, Quickies, Romance, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28254990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureheavens/pseuds/azureheavens
Summary: Hilda weaved her way through the barracks on the Bridge of Myrddin to Claude’s room. But once she came to his quarters, she found herself stuck, one hand ready to knock, unwilling to do it. What would she say?Hey, Claude. Did you plan for that army waiting outside of Merceus? How did you convince a feared Almyran general to help us? When did he meet with my brother?She didn’t know if she would get them, but she wanted to hear the answers from him.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Series: Being my friend is very sexy of you [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1509341
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	1. Embers into Ash

**Author's Note:**

> Part 9 out of 10!! I’ve been working on this since November and it kept getting longer and longer until I realized: Multichapters. Everywhere. 
> 
> Last fic of 2020! Part 10 will come out before the end of next month, another 2 chapters. 👀

Frantic shouts were their only warning when light crashed from the sky. Dust clogged everyone’s lungs as ancient and impenetrable stone crumbled around them, and the shrieks of soldiers and mounts fell on deaf, ringing ears.

Panic sat low and cold in Hilda’s chest as she and countless others scrambled to safety. She led the way a number of them out the front gates of Merceus. Not on purpose. She didn’t know why they followed her. Anyone with common sense would have retreated too. She only prayed she didn’t lead them into more danger.

The ground rumbled ceaselessly. The Alliance’s graceless retreat was a cacophony of metal armor that lasted long after they entered the treeline. Would the light come again? Would it be _worse?_ Explosions sounded behind her, but she kept running. Soon the Alliance army stopped in a clearing, gasping for breath, nursing their wounds. Hilda counted off the Valkyries her brother had sent in from Goneril. All of them had stayed with her. Her battalion was safe.

She looked left. Cyril took to the sky to help guide stragglers to safety. Lysithea tried to stop Ferdinand from galloping back to gather more of his lost men. Raphael set an injured Leonie on the ground for Mercedes to heal, then nearly collapsed as well.

She looked right. Marianne and Flayn were over Manuela, their magic glowing over the red gash in the singer’s leg. Lorenz was nearby, shouting out orders for immediate personnel counts. The scout dashed off, narrowly dodging Ignatz riding in on his horse. He carried another soldier across his saddle for medical attention, leaving him to Flayn’s care.

Hilda scanned the chaos. Picking out countless faces, but never the one she wanted. Where _was_ he? Where was-

“Are you hurt?”

Hilda nearly jumped out of her skin. Byleth took hold of her shoulder, her stare even like steel, to help her calm down. Even covered in rubble and dust, she was calm and in control.

Hilda let out a huge breath. “Please don’t scare me, professor. I’ve had enough fright for a lifetime.”

Byleth smiled an apology and gripped her shoulder. “Glad you’re not injured. Stay put and rest, but if you can, help to heal the wounded.” She turned to leave.

“Wait!” Hilda grabbed Byleth’s arm. “Aren’t you making sure we have everyone? We’re missing someone important.”

Byleth looked in Hilda’s eyes and frowned, giving a tight nod.

Suddenly, a brown wyvern cried out overhead. Its rider shouted something, but Hilda couldn’t make out what was said. Others followed through the sky, a whole battalion of wyverns draped in green and gold. They soared past those on the ground, tree branches snapping underneath as they landed in a cluster.

White scales and glinting armor landed in their center. Claude helped lower a second man from his saddle to the ground. The man with tawny skin and a scraggy beard grimaced and slumped against one of his soldiers, who helped keep him on his feet. Blood trickled down from the top of his head, and he favored his left side.

 _Oh wow, Claude saved the Almyran general,_ Hilda realized, watching from some meters away. Byleth checked in with Claude, who relayed what happened then waved her away, obviously fine. Byleth moved to the injured man, helping to steady him, before scanning the area for someone who could help.

Byleth caught Hilda’s eye. The professor pointed her out, and the soldiers started carrying the general to her.

“Oh…” Hilda’s healing magic wasn’t as good as the others in camp, but with mass injuries like this, it was necessary. She beckoned to have him sit on a large rock fit against a tree trunk. The man sat with a pained grunt and the soldier stayed with him, pressing an elixir bottle into his palm. The soldier shouted something in Almyran over his shoulder then started applying bandages.

The general reeked of blood and sweat, but away from battle, he looked more winded than in pain. “Now, _that—"_ He began in Fodlanese, pausing to take a hearty swig of elixir. “That was not as fun as the boy promised me.” He glanced her way to see if his joke had landed.

Hilda barely registered what he had said, and who he was talking about. She smiled by reflex, focusing instead on his head wound. “Yeah… You and me both, I suppose.”

The man barked a laugh, then winced. Either the healing hadn’t taken yet, or the soldier wrapping bandages wasn’t trying to be gentle. When another Almyran soldier ran up to him, the general rattled off orders with practiced ease in Almyran. Hilda realized she had never heard their language before, and caught herself staring. The soldier locked eyes with her before frowning and walking away. The tired, disinterested look in his eyes reminded her of Cyril.

The solider with the bandages motioned he’d like to switch places with Hilda. She did, kneeling to focus a healing spell on the man’s left side. Exhaustion was catching up up with her, making her eyes droop. She pushed past that feeling.

“You know,” he continued, looking at Hilda, “Usually I’m able to get out of the way in time. My record was almost ruined.”

…Did blood loss make him chatty? For someone who just escaped death, this man was strangely cheerful. “Your record, huh?” Hilda replied sweetly. “So you’re good at this sort of thing?”

“I should think so. Can’t let anyone start calling me Nader the _Almost_ Undefeated.”

Hilda stopped healing. Nader… _Nader?!_ Feared Almyran warrior, constantly facing off against her brother at the border, acting… very friendly with her. Today was already stranger than her wildest dreams, but she didn’t expect this.

“All fixed up? Good.” Nader stood at last, thanking the soldier and sending him off. “I’ve heard rumors, but Fodlan healing magic really is more powerful. I appreciate it, Miss Goneril.” 

Hilda stared up at Nader. “How do you know who I am?”

Nader grinned. “How? Look at your hair! Your brother has the same pink! I’ve been watching for it ever since he told me to keep an eye on you, but it looks like you’ve helped me first.”

“…I’m sorry. I am _very_ lost now.” Hilda stood, wincing from soreness. “You’ve talked with my brother? About me?”

“That’s right. The kid, uh… _Claude._ He arranged that we meet so we could bolster your forces.” He surveyed the area, his mouth now a grim line. “But looking now, you need more men than I could ever bring…”

Letting out a big breath, hands clenched in front of her, Hilda looked around too. An irritated Lorenz was shouting and waving his arms at Claude. Green eyes met hers for a second before Claude turned to Lorenz, countering his complaints with questions about their army.

To the side, other Almyran soldiers tended to their wyverns and their injured. They kept to themselves, except for a few Alliance soldiers who had gone to them. Seeing that, Hilda felt she should go too. Her magic didn’t glow as brightly as Flayn’s or Marianne’s, but…

 _They deserve to get_ _something good for coming all the way just to find this mess._

* * *

Bleak and uneven calm permeated the air once they returned to the Bridge of Myrddin. They had just marched in after camping out on Gronder Field. The Almyran army had left at that point, traveling northeast back to Fodlan’s Throat. The Alliance army had already buried their own dead, but the Almyrans insisted on bringing their fallen back across the border. Hilda wasn’t familiar enough with the customs, but with their small number, their wyverns could take them home faster.

Hilda had been too exhausted from fighting then running then marching to really talk to anyone, so she rested as best she could. The others seemed to feel the same, and she wasn’t sure how to check in with Claude yet.

Now was a good time, a moment of quiet before meetings started again. Hilda weaved her way through the barracks to Claude’s room. But once she came to his quarters, she found herself stuck, one hand ready to knock, unwilling to do it. What would she say?

_Hey, Claude. Did you plan for that army waiting outside of Merceus? How did you convince a feared Almyran general to help us? When did he meet with my brother?_

She didn’t know if she would get them, but she wanted to hear the answers from him.

Then the door swung open, her hand lost in the air. Claude stood on the other side, startled. Hilda felt surprised too, like he caught her where she shouldn’t be. It was the first time in a long while she wasn’t sure what he was thinking.

“Hey, Claude,” she said.

His lips quirked in a not-quite smile. “Hilda,” he muttered. He watched her for a long moment before reaching through the door, taking her hand, and pulling her inside.

The door was shut behind her when Claude held her and kissed her. Hilda froze, shocked, staring at his too close face. It wasn’t passionate, but his lips felt… grounding. Firm and familiar when everything else was upside down. His solid embrace pushed her worries out of her mind, making her want to bury herself in him. She closed her eyes, leaning in, their hushed breath filling the silence.

The kiss only lasted seconds before Claude pulled away. He kept his eyes closed, but his ungloved hands gripped her arms. His callouses felt rough and firm. “Sorry, just needed to indulge myself. I’m still a bit rattled.” He let out a breath and opened his eyes. Green searched her face. “You came for something?”

“…It can wait.” Hilda grabbed his face and pulled his mouth to hers.

He didn’t resist. Instead he enveloped her in his arms, clutching at her as if she might disappear. They kissed, then kissed again. On and on in a mindless mix of breath, each one more hurried than the last. Just when they would come to their senses, manic heat rushed them all at once, and they swayed under the impact. Claude caught her waist in the crook of his arm and pulled her body against him. Her hands gripped the collar of his coat, not wasting one second without his lips on hers. She had her fingers in Claude’s thick hair while his hands roamed over her body, his tongue dipping into her mouth.

Her heartbeat howled in her ears. She shuddered a sigh, her body melting against his. His kisses were both a comfort and a stimulant: emptying her mind, flooding her senses. A knot tightened in her chest and burned more urgently with each second. Who knew what caused it: Leftover adrenaline? Relief with just being _alive?_

But she didn’t care why. Tension was eating them both alive, and they knew one way to relieve it.

Claude was the one to lead her away, sitting her on the desk and lifting her skirts. His fingers burned her thighs like sparks off a match, and she craved it. She worked off his sash, his coat, his belt. Layer after _damn_ layer. But from his quick hands undressing her, he was just as frustrated. Just as hungry.

They didn’t take long. There was no time to spare. The army would be meeting soon to plan their next move, but they deserved this moment. They rocked together with quiet, ragged sighs, rushing to claim that needed release.

Once dressed, Hilda left his room.

But she left with more questions than when she started.


	2. What Comes After

Several weeks soon passed. The fallout from Merceus and preparations for Enbarr filled every day, making meeting together nearly impossible. Hilda and Claude checked in with each other when they could, but their meetings were uneventful. No breathless kisses or late-night visits. Just glances down the hall, conversations during meals, jokes after the war council.

Thinking about ending this war, facing Edelgard at last, unnerved Hilda like nothing else. She found herself taking up _more_ errands to save her from the idle wanderings of her thoughts. Is that why people did it? Needlessly fill up their to-do list to escape their own mind?

Even stopping to enjoy the peace of the greenhouse didn’t help. Hilda sat in a hidden corner on the stone barrier under a giant green leaf, stretching like she could trick her mind into relaxing. It felt too quiet, like something might burst if she dropped her guard. When the war was done, Hilda would be _ecstatic_ to let herself daydream again. If only the future would hurry up…

But bubbling beneath her worries was another nagging question. One she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Because the answer stared her in the face.

There were few clues as to how, but Claude apparently knew Nader for a while now. He even had him serve as his retainer back in Derdriu. How weird was that? Some time ago, Hilda had sent Holst a letter to hear exactly how he and the Undefeated became drinking buddies. Her brother’s reply came quickly, and it was just as Claude said.

“To be honest, it’s a relief,” Holst had written. “I didn’t know what to make of Claude’s request at first, but it is sorely needed with what I’ve heard from the front. The Almyrans have already passed through Fodlan’s Locket, and they wished for our victory against the empire. I couldn’t help but feel that the world shifted under my feet. If moves like this mean the Alliance and Almyra will see less conflict in the future, then Claude has my full support.”

The real surprise was how openminded Holst had become. Or maybe he always had been? As expected of her perfect, strong, yet humble older brother. But it made no sense for Almyra to join forces with them. Traveling all this way to aid an enemy, only to die on foreign soil. Hilda couldn’t imagine what would convince them to do it.

But somehow, Claude had convinced them.

 _If I can realize my dream, Fodlan will be reborn._ Those were Claude’s words on the Bridge of Myrddin. _The old age will end, and we'll welcome a new dawn._

Hilda heard about Claude’s dream of unity several times throughout the years, but he never answered “why.” This moment, and a thousand other moments, pointed her to one conclusion:

Claude was Almyran. He had to be.

It didn’t even register as a surprise. Instead it was like… clicking a lost puzzle piece into place. The picture was still incomplete, but it started to take shape. Gaps and half-truths still floated around. Claude once said he was shocked when he learned his mother was Fodlan nobility, so it was once a secret to him too. But his other stories didn’t sound like he grew up penniless. Was his family rich enough to own horses and hire a combat instructor? A landowner by Almyra’s border, maybe?

Really, she always knew something was there. His secrets were a challenge, a curiosity. But since he dangled the truth out of her reach, Hilda didn’t pry. And it made sense to keep it secret. _You always figured he had one,_ she told herself. _Makes sense he would hide something like_ _this from you._

“…And I thought I was the one constantly lost in thought.”

Claude’s voice. Hilda looked up to find him rounding the corner to her, an amused look on his face. He still looked put together, though a long day of meetings seemed to mess up his hair. He would have to have been looking for her specifically to find her in the greenhouse.

Hilda stood to greet him, a bit embarrassed. “Sorry, Claude! I wasn’t trying to ignore you.”

“I figured, but you looked pretty focused.” He waved a hand to the blooms of the greenhouse. “Are you trying to will yourself into a literal flower to avoid work?”

“Ooh, now that’s an idea…” Hilda stretched out her arms, wiggling her fingers like petals soaking up warm sunshine. “And are you implying that I’m a pretty as a rose?”

He smiled at her, and her stomach did a little flip. “Wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”

Damn it all, it was too easy for both of them to banter. The last time they were alone like this was on Myrddin, which felt like a lifetime ago. Her eyes wandered to take in the fit of his clothes, the curve of his mouth. Ideas of what to do with him sparked in her mind, but now wasn’t a good time for anything like that.

So, what better to do than deflect? Hilda looked away, fidgeting with the lace on her glove. “Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Weird questions are my favorite,” said Claude.

“Well, maybe it’s not weird, but…” She let out a breath and looked into his eyes. “How are those Almyran soldiers from before? Have you heard from them at all?”

Claude raised a brow. “I have,” he said, pausing. “I’ve heard they made it back in one piece.”

“That’s good. Holst told me they even wished us luck when they left. But I can’t help but wonder _why_ they agreed to help us at all. I mean, you’ve made your reasoning clear. But for them? Did we trade something for their support?”

Claude now had both brows raised. “I’m guessing you already ruled out charity?”

“I didn’t say that. I just want to understand.”

He smiled kindly, but he watched her with wary eyes. “It’s not like you to get caught up in the intricacies of international politics, Hilda.”

She frowned. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. A welcome surprise, actually.” Claude cleared his throat and continued. “You’re half right, I did propose a trade of sorts. Our goal is to unify Fodlan, and once we do, we’ll be about the same size as Almyra. A little smaller, actually, but who’s comparing?” He seemed to laugh at that.

Hilda nodded, chewing on that thought. “What exactly are we trading, again?”

“A favor,” he said. “A request for aid now in exchange for cooperation down the road. Almyra’s military is infamously strong, and unlikely allies. Exactly the tactics I like for a scheme, but we needed to convince them we’re worth the investment. Other countries tend to hold stakes in a war, even if they’re not the ones fighting it.”

“So building that connection now means we’ll be able to rely on them later…?”

“Exactly, and that they can rely on us. Fodlan is weak now, but one group will take control in the end. I promised that if _we_ were the victors, we wouldn’t be swiping across the border for more than we needed. Merceus was supposed to prove we could manage it. Those javelins of light, however…” 

Hilda shuddered. “Ugh, don’t remind me… They came from the Empire, right? A weapon like would scare even Almyra. All the more reason to join our side since we couldn’t use it against them.”

Claude suddenly snapped his fingers, pointing at her. “Actually, that’s good. I didn’t think of that.” He grinned. “I knew there was a little genius under all that pink.”

Hilda felt herself smile too, squirming under the praise. “Well, it seemed obvious… If someone had a weapon that could flatten a whole fort, I wouldn’t want anything to do with them.”

“Another good point… Almyra may just try to war against such a weapon, but if we fall to it, who knows how they’ll fare against it.” Claude started to rub his chin, concern lighting in his eyes. He shook his head free of it. “In any case, Fodlan needs to reach out when it rebuilds. Otherwise we’ll be fighting over the remaining resources. Reaching out to Almyra, and even Morfis and Brigid, will benefit us all in the long run.”

“Sounds like you have it all handled!” Hilda clapped her hands together cheerfully. “As expected of the invincible Mr. Leaderman.”

“…It’s been a while since you called me that,” Claude said dryly, but he looked at her with affection. “You know, it’s one thing to plan how to end a war, but another to figure out what happens after. I’m looking forward to having yours and Holst’s help in the future.”

Startled, Hilda tilted her head. She replayed his words back in her head. “Wait, my help?”

He looked at her in surprise. “Of course. It’s inevitable, really. House Goneril is the face of Fodlan’s Throat. Negotiations with Almyra couldn’t start without your family’s involvement.”

“Oh no, definitely true! But the most I do here is make sure we don’t run out of supplies, and starting that was more of an accident. Am I the person you need for that sort of work?” Hilda bit her lip, thinking. “My brother, maybe… He’s already met with Nader after all, and that went well, right?”

“You’ve met him, too,” Claude offered, as if it changed anything. “And I saw you help the others after we retreated from the fort.”

“Because I felt _bad_ for them! I mean…” Hilda pushed back the weird knot rising in her throat. She was getting worked up, and she could see how it would look bad. In fact, all she could think of was the way even the Almyrans looked at her, wary of her for good reason. “Yes, they fought with us willingly, but not even we knew how things would end up. With how many died at Merceus, they shouldn’t have come at all.”

The look Claude gave her made her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. It was the barest flicker of surprise, pausing for a moment too long. His green eyes looked away. “Shouldn’t have come, huh?”

Suddenly the greenhouse felt too small, or even too big. The steady heat for the plants stifled her, just like her wish that she had said _anything else._ “I don’t think that came out right… I meant-”

“That dying for someone else’s cause is more of a loss than a victory. Don’t worry, I get what you mean.” The corners of Claude’s turned up in a smile. His gaze was hard, sad, disappointed. “I regret I couldn’t predict what weaponry the Empire had, and the loss that came with it. But with every battle, we knew there was a chance someone might not come home. Almyra knew it too.”

Hilda opened her mouth to speak. The words didn’t come.

“If it throws you off too much, don’t worry about it for now. Focus on what we need to conquer Enbarr first.” He shrugged, shaking his head. “Anything after, will come after.”

“Right, I agree,” Hilda said firmly, wondering what else she could say. “We’ll show Edelgard how we feel about what happened at Merceus. For how she treated our guests.”

Claude gave a short, dry laugh. “Yeah, we’ll give her hell. Maybe if we scare her enough, she’ll even surrender.”

Sighing, Hilda dusted off her skirts. “Wouldn’t that be a dream…”

“We’ve already seen the impossible happen. But I suppose we should prepare for the worst.” He gave her a small salute before turning to the exit. “I’ll see you in the dining hall.”

Watching him leave set her heart in a panic. She took a step. “Claude?”

He stopped with just a glance over his shoulder, almost out the door.

Hilda gripped her hands a bit tighter. “Would you like to take tea with me after dinner? All this thinking and worrying calls for a little break, I say.”

Claude turned, casting a few glances to the side. “Just tea?” he asked, a tinge of bitterness in his voice.

“And some sweets, of course.” Hilda shrugged off the ice in his voice. Her feelings weren’t the focus right now. “The cooks are sure to spare a few if they know Mr. Leaderman will be dining. If you come, I’ll make sure everything is ready when you arrive.”

He said nothing at first. Then a slow, flat smile spread on his lips. “I can make time for tea.”

Hilda let out an internal sigh of relief, and made plans to meet him in the gardens later. The weather was still warm, and lamps would light up the night despite how late it would be. It had a weird atmosphere for a while, but once Hilda started quizzing him on what food he would serve for the end of the war feast, color seemed to return to the gardens. Soon Claude was teasing her again, and she deserved a few jokes at her expense. She hated feeling on edge, especially around him.

When they finished, Hilda shooed him away so she could clean up. “Goddess knows you probably have more meetings, even this late,” she said.

“Are you saying you won’t come with?” He shot a wink. Claude stood and left before she could even respond.

One last dig. And Hilda couldn’t blame him. _Maybe I should have said yes, but… This just proves I’m not made for that kind of work._

Still, she really was glad they were friends. Glad to have met him.

The only weird part of their friendship was that favor still dangling over her head. Long ago, she wanted to be rid of it as soon as possible. If anything, befriending her made sense now. And all his promises about the place for her in his plans… If Claude wanted the Alliance to have better relations with Almyra, her family was in the way.

But the night they spent together. That time after Merceus. Was that part of it? Doubt edged in her mind, but she found no place to keep it. Hilda never felt unsafe or used around him, especially not in his bed. That was the best part: sleeping together when they wanted it, being fine when they didn’t.

Claude smiling and sipping tea with her cemented that feeling. Their agreement was temporary, their friendship still solid.

Honestly, once she made the connection, did she expect things to change? That she would turn around a lock eyes with a stranger? Breezy Claude, still cautious but insistent their preparations would be enough. Sometimes the smile was just as mask, but he was always strong and trustworthy. It wouldn’t and _shouldn’t_ change anything. It didn’t matter if Claude was Almyran…

But it did matter.

Why else would he hide that connection? As much as Hilda believed everyone should be able to do what they want, she couldn’t ignore the reasons they couldn’t.

In their relationship here, at least, nothing changed. Claude hadn’t changed. Guessing that he was Almyran only filled in the puzzle pieces he was leaving out. It doesn’t mean he’s not her friend, not the leader of the Alliance…

Still, she found herself sighing when she slept alone in her room that night. _I miss when it was easy,_ she thought, curled under the covers. _When it was just us during a night of fun, not tied to messy politics. When the worse thing would a scandal about the archduke messing around. Not about…_

About what?

What’s the _real_ problem if their relationship got out?

Cold understanding crept over her skin. Here she was, coming up with excuses, jumping through mental hoops to make herself feel better. Patting herself on the back for staying away instead of being caught in his arms.

It _was_ a good idea their relationship stayed a secret after all. But whose reputation was she trying to protect?

Claude’s?

Or her own?

* * *

Less than a week later, the Alliance marched into Enbarr.

Striking down generals, demonic beasts, and former classmates, they were able to clear the way to the center of the city. Now they waited at Edelgard’s front door, the imperial palace looming like its own demonic beast. As others took care of last-minute supplies and equipment, and as a battering ram was lined up to the doors, Hilda stopped to rest. 

To her left, Byleth and Mercedes huddled together, the two women standing forehead to forehead. Mercedes’ lips moved in quiet prayer, tears staining her cheeks. Byleth quietly wiped her lover’s face clean with a handkerchief, a steady hand at her back. Their relationship wasn’t a secret anymore. It was sweet to see them come together after a terrible battle.

Claude stood just ahead of her, mounting his white-scaled wyvern, wearing the black and gold armor that marked him as their commander. Hilda’s hand flexed involuntarily, wondering his thoughts. 

Lately, she couldn’t help but notice the ways they were different. Times when being with him as easy as breathing, and others when the space felt immense. Claude’s eye was always on a view far past the horizon, but Hilda was fine to stand in place. She dodged expectations. He shattered them.

His dream was bigger than she could manage. So, what better way to help than staying out of the way?

With the bellow of the trumpets, Hilda rose to her feet. There was one more battle to fight. Anything after, would come after.


End file.
